


Quidnunc

by traditionalfire



Series: Miraak/Arya the Dragonborn [5]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gossip, Interesting NPCs Mod, Possessive Behavior, Public Display of Affection, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 08:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3375389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traditionalfire/pseuds/traditionalfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An anonymous Tumblr prompt for the word meme: "Quidnunc - One who always has to know what is going on."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quidnunc

**Author's Note:**

> Copypasta from the original Tumblr post: "The first Skyrim related thing that came to mind for this word was a character from the Interesting NPCs mod, Nythriel. She’s an unrepentant gossip in the Blue Palace in Solitude. So… Here’s a little drabble with her, Arya, and Miraak. The dialogue in this is partially taken from the actual script for interacting with Nythriel. :3"

For weeks, Nythriel observed the nobles of Solitude coming and going from the Blue Palace, chattering to each other in hushed tones when they thought no one else was listening. Somehow, they didn’t manage to have even one juicy secret among the whole lot of them, much to her chagrin.

But then the Dragonborn came, and all of her boredom was forgotten.

The girl wasn’t what anyone would expect from the fabled Dragonborn, by any means. She was a Breton, not a Nord, first of all, and a short one at that. And Nythriel was pretty sure there’d never been a  _lady_  Dragonborn before. And so youthful! The little thing couldn’t have been any more than twenty years old. The icing on the cake? She was irrefutably dazzling, with bright green eyes, long and lustrous black hair, and just the hint of a wickedly curvaceous body peeking out from between chainmail and leather. Everything about her would make for a spectacular bit of gossip.

Somehow, it got even better the longer Nythriel watched. As the Dragonborn spoke with Falk Firebeard, the tall, strangely dressed Nord that came with her silently stared the other man down, though Falk somehow managed to remain completely oblivious. When that did nothing, the man stepped closer, and entwined his fingers with hers. The girl turned for a moment to flash him a smile, before shaking out of his grip and continuing to talk exuberantly about some recent adventure, gesturing wildly enough to nearly smack her companion in the chest. Undeterred, he stepped behind the girl and pulled her back against his chest. This time, Falk seemed to finally notice what the larger man was implying, based on the way he suddenly blanched, before making an excuse to run off. The Dragonborn watched him in confusion as he retreated, apparently ignorant of the possessive motive behind her partner’s behavior.

Oh, what a deliciously scandalous turn of events. The Dragonborn had a paramour! A paramour who was probably twice her age, not to mention twice her size. The whole of Solitude would be hearing about this!

Nythriel silently thanked every Divine she could think of when the Dragonborn noticed her and sauntered her way.

“Good morning!” the girl chirped.

“And a good morning to you, my dear,” she answered politely, trying to restrain her excitement. An opportunity to get information straight from the source was a rare treat indeed. “Excuse me for being so forward, but, are you the Dragonborn?”

The girl beamed. “I am. But call me Arya.” The man behind her coughed. “And this is Miraak, my…” The pair exchanged a look that might have been confusion, or might have been affection, or perhaps it was something in between. “My friend,” she concluded with a wry grin. “Are you one of the Thanes? I’ve never seen you in the palace before.”

“Ah, I’m always around,” the Altmer mused, “but I’m no Thane. I’m Nythriel. I’m just here to keep up to date on the court’s latest affairs. For example, did you know that Thane Erikur is on the market for a lovely lady like yourself?”

Arya blushed. Miraak crossed his arms and scowled.

“I didn’t, but…” The Dragonborn stammered, clearly flustered.

“They say that he has a particular taste for Bosmer women. You look like you have a good bit of mer blood in you, dear, and by your size I’d guess Bosmer.” The older woman winked at the Dragonborn, for good measure, and she could have sworn the Nord  _growled._  Combined with the way Arya began to fidget uncomfortably, their body language told Nythriel more than words ever could, and she reveled in it. Still, there was more she could glean from such an uncommon opportunity.

“But I’m more curious about you. Does the lady fancy a strong, coarse man?”

Arya’s grimace immediately shifted to just a hint of a shy smile. “I do. Someone who’s tough, and brave, and not afraid of a strong woman…” Her blush deepened when her “friend” gently took her hand.

“ _Dovahkiin_ , we have business elsewhere,” he murmured, in an oddly gentle tone for a man so obviously possessive. Their eyes met for a moment, before she turned back.

“I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m afraid he’s right. We should go. It was lovely meeting you, Nythriel!” she called, even as Miraak tugged her along towards the stairs.

“And you too, dear!” Nythriel called back, sincerely pleased.

A beautiful young Breton Dragonborn, having an affair with an older, dominant man. What a great story it would make. She took her leave of the court, intent to ruminate on it further in the quiet of the garden. Every good rumor needed a little embellishing, she thought. When she glimpsed the large Nord patting the Dragonborn on the bottom as they exited the palace, though, she reconsidered. The truth was salacious enough.


End file.
